Once sated, the Ranked Duke Volar-fey flew towards me, stopping within arm’s reach he began to hover, his focus and perception scanning me as he sought to understand the gift of Blood I had just share.

He was brimming with life’s energies, energies from the Blood and honey so heady that he was finding it hard to concentrate, let alone hover. The energies empowering him, infusing him with a headiness that leads into a languid almost drunken euphoria. Bowing elegantly, pleased and drunk on the power of my tribute, he thanked me. The movement was graceful despite his obvious inebriation and occurring in mid-air. His movements even in his demi form as courteous as it would have been by any Seelie Nobel with feet planted firmly on the ground.

"It has been long since the old customs have been observed," he said. "The Volar-fey have been forgotten and ignored, cast out and replaced by Wisps and Aziza by most Sidhe. We thank you for your kindness and extend guest rights to you.

“I am Ranked Duke Hawthorne. I had thought myself the last ruler of the Volar-fey. But in this place, we have been called. Gathered by Danu.

“While it may be true that we are not the last of our kind, it is not far from the truth. Those that did not answer the summons when this Sithern was formed have chosen instead to fade. Unable to trust that our future is anything more than extinction. So, we are all that remain of the Volar-fey that have embraced this new start.

“We are pleased with your gift of blood, honey, and milk. It will go far to replenish our fading powers and give us the energies we need to birth a new generation of Volar-fey. The first newly born since Mab contended for and won the Seelie throne.

“The Sithern is pleased with your gift, it can be as curious as a child, so forgive any unseemly responses as it attempts to adapt to your desires. You are not the Sithern’s creator, but you have been claimed as a friend, in return for your gift."

The tendrils of distrust and uncertainty, that feeling like someone is watching you just out of sight, stopped abruptly as a bond of trust and friendship snapped into existence between the Sithern and myself. The mental and magical assault, the testing of my defenses and attempts to breach my aura and subsume my mental processes with the glamour the Sithern was projecting ceased and a welcoming warmth and acceptance replaced the feelings that I had been experiencing. The certainty that something was off, that danger existed all around.

“Thankfully and unfortunately, the energies that you have gifted will force my metamorphosis, an imperative of Volar-fey that cannot be ignored. It will allow me to Rank and Level, to become King of these few that remain.

“As King, I will be empowered to return life to the Volar-fey. Life begins at the top, and as I assume the throne of my people, they too will be changed, the spark of life once more blossoming.

“Even now, I fight the demands of that metamorphosis. I will need to enter Sleep for a time as I transition. I apologize but needs must. As such, I will leave you in the care of my wife Lady-Knight Petal,” Duke Hawthorne explained flying after another graceful bow.

"Lady Knight," I said, uncertain on who to address of the Volar-fey gathered since she had not introduced herself yet, "I am Teigh Mac de Beleros y Cyronax, Ranked Prince. Are you one of Duchess Wynne’s outliers?"

[That was a mistake,] Caraid said, [The lower Ranked are required by precedent and protocol to introduce themselves first before they are gifted with the name and House of those higher Ranked.]

[And even if it was a happy circumstance, you have gifted the Volar-fey greatly this day. You have given back their fertility. They will never be able to repay that gift so will be almost desperate to pay homage and honor when possible.]

[It won’t be a problem here, but you have to start paying attention to Protocol, no matter how silly you think the conventions. The mistake is small, and she will definitely overlook it, especially in her current euphoria, but remember she is Sidhe, no matter her size, and Sidhe can be easily insulted, finding fault where none was meant, and protocol and honor have been used to claim slights and insults are enough to warrant a duel.]

It was little mistakes like this that cropped up, the unforeseen, that reminded me that I had a long way to go before I was fully Sidhe. Embracing the culture and values of these peoples may take me a century, it was no wonder that they considered their young still children until after their fifth decade.

[The Danu’s Blessing that you have been gifted with will have increased their trust, and they will find themselves willing to help and obey you, even though they won’t realize that Danu has warped the weft and weave of your aura to make it more attractive to the fey. So, this slight would have been ignored even without the gift of blood and honey. Just remember in future and wait for those Ranked lower to approach and introduce themselves before deciding to reply with your name and House.]

"Your Highness, I am Knight Petal, Clan Hawthorne," she said kneeling in midair. "The Duchess has offered us sanctuary and allowed us respite when we found ourselves drawn by Danu to this world in the same event that created this Sithern.

"We are neither Vassals nor subjects, instead we are much like you, strangers in a strange land. Land of iron and magic that is both hospitable and inhospitable to the demi-fey. We are safe inside this Sithern, but for those that would venture out. The very air is polluted with the poisons of iron and a miasma of poison and pollutants that cause those demi-natured to wither even if protective measures are taken."

"You didn’t enter through the Dungeon portal with Duchess Wynne?" I asked.

"No, Your Highness. We have no memory of the before-times. Before this Sithern was magicked into being, our memories are ones of thought and fiction. Fleeting moments of wonderment and joy as the mortals dreamed our stories and told our tales.

"We are Myth made real, invested with the breath of life. It is why we have remained instead of fleeing to the Summerlands or Talahm. Duchess Wynne offered us passage through the portal to Talahm, but we were uncertain if the forms that we have been gifted would last in worlds not our own."

"You were all born at the same time? Adult and Ranked?" I inquired my surprise evident.

"Volar-fey are more attuned and connected to the cycles of nature. We do give birth to our children. But in rare instances, Danu stirs, and the flowers of the field respond to that stirring. The Demi races are the result.

"No matter the species, Volar, Wisp, Aziza, Sprites or Fey. If they are Demi, they are magic given form and function. As long as magic exists, the Demi will survive and thrive," Petal explained.

"Are you bound by System?" I asked.

"At our birth, we weren’t. But our agreement with Duchess Wynne altered us. That agreement gave us access and structure to the Ranks, levels, and skills that the System provides."

That was interesting. It made me wonder if Earth’s population could be brought under System dominion. S-Prime might have an issue with it, but if it worked, it would be an effective way to stymie the God Particle Research project. I had planned something else, but perhaps System integration would be an effective countermeasure to CERN.

It would certainly be a permanent solution.

I’d had Cedric gather a few dozen Silinium seed nodes. Part of my plan had been to release these ‘seeds’ into Earth’s ley-line streams. I thought it might work as a temporary stopgap to have the metal accumulating God Particles. The energies to be absorbed by the Silinium here, and with the Portal closure that should jump-start and multiply normal growth for the Silinium seed stock.

I did wonder how System assigned Rank and level for fey that was created and not born, or those inducted into the System without Ascension chambers. Perhaps it was an exception made for the first generation, and from this point on Ascension and growth would return to the conventions sanctioned and established by System. Or maybe Duchess Wynne had found a way to farm experience for them so that they were able to gain advanced Ranks and levels.

I would ask, but I had been informed, constantly, that it was considered taboo to breach the subject of levels unless you were considering forming a covenant bond; servant, staff, Vassal, House member, the type of bond that might be formed was irrelevant, but until it was in place, level and stats were closely held. I’d been to free with my information until that point had been forcefully impressed upon me.

The paths System provided were tailored to individual desire and determination. No two people would level and Rank up in the exact same manner. To question how an individual reached a certain Rank was tantamount to stealing proprietary lineage or declaring contempt and disdain for the family’s heritage.

When I’d derided Leian’s ability to attain her new Rank at the banquet, the insult of my words was much more egregious than I’d realized at that moment. It was common knowledge that the children of the Ranked and wealthy were ‘power-leveled’, but to actually discuss the actions and their results was never done publicly. To do so invited repercussions, for those who engaged in the practice felt compelled to defend the honor of those who had basically cheated and gamed the System.

Lady-Knight Petal waited patiently as I considered our conversation, the Sithern did not. Part of Danu’s Blessing [Danu’s Kiss] allowed any Sithern I created to move to my will. To become a living breathing appendage that provided succor and protection. But those buffs and blessings were only meant to apply to any Sithern I might create.

Interestingly, it seemed no one informed Duchess Wynne’s Sithern of that limitation. As Petal and I chatted, as I considered the chance that the System may have guided me to infect this World with the System Paradigm. The possible ramifications to Earth if System gained traction, the Sithern began to change; it conformed to some hidden signal I was unaware I was projecting.

The changes started with the flowers. The fields before me were beautiful and fragrant, the flowers were varieties I’d never seen before nor could I identify them before they began to evolve. But as evolution and mutation took root, they slowly transformed into varieties I was familiar with.

The ground cover became clover. Uniform fields of golds bloomed with blues, violets, and reds as flowers native to Earth erupted from the ground in an explosion of color and perfume. Tulips, roses, daisies. Flowers that were native to this world supplanted and replaced the cultivated garden that Duchess Wynne had created.

Trees stretched toward the sky; bark and leaf twisting and forming a path of trellises that opened a path leading to an exit in the distance. The trees natural cycle of growth continued until Cherry Blossoms had formed. Branches heavy with beauty and the promise of a bountiful harvest. Cherries, ripe and abundant matured, and the sound of water cascading in the background completed the newly transformed field.

A burst of magic. Magic that contained the joy and childish delight of the Sithern completed the metamorphosis as a Japanese stylized gazebo was constructed to complete the aesthetics. A landscape that would be perfectly at home, as the pride of place for any Japanese Gardener.

Satisfied that the Sithern has finished, I thought it prudent to acknowledge the gift and honor I had been given. Reaching into my Ring of Hidden Depths, I withdrew one of the Silinium seeds I had harvested. Reaching forth and injecting my mana into the metal, I acknowledged the pulse of life that began to beat in harmony with the Sithern.

Holding firm to will and intent, I began to sculpt the metal until a shallow bowl had been formed. I grabbed another Silinium seed to fashion a base. I constructed a pedestal for the bowl to rest upon and attached the crafted bowl to the unworked raw seed stock. Placing the materials near the gazebo, I withdrew a knife to once again make an offering of blood. This time encouraging my life’s energies and magics to mingle with the blood that filled the bowl.

[You have created an altar of blood, magic, and life. Would you like to dedicate this Shrine?]